A/N 'Silverwings and Toothless' is a genuine love story that has been appreciated by many readers. It's a long story but if you simply want to read how the pair reunites and how Toothless (Nighthawk) meets his children, you can read Chapters 1-4. As of Chapter 5 their love is challenged further and Silverwings is persuaded to go on a trip to Berk.

This story is a sequel to 'Toothless and the dragoness' (rated T) and takes place a year later. In 'Toothless and the dragoness' they meet, share their mating period, and greatly fall in love. A year later in high summer Silverwings awaits Toothless who promised to come visit her again. As a result of their love-making they now have five children.
Silverwings is increasingly nervous about the fact that Nighthawk is going to reveal to her the secret of his flight. She never understood how he was able to fly with half a tailfin gone. Nighthawk refused to tell her, but promised to 'reveal his secret' once they would meet again. He rightfully fears to reveal to Silverwings that he is dependent on a human for flight, and worse, that this human has become his closest friend. This revelation could tear their love apart.

A remark on geography: If you position the stories on our globe, you could say that Silverwings and Toothless had their mating period in the north of Sweden. The location of Silverwings' nest at the start of this story is situated far more east, in the Taiga of Karelia below the White Sea. This is in Russia, close to the border with Finland. The isle of Berk in turn is situated somewhat south of Iceland and is one of the biggest islands in an archipelago.

Disclaimer: the general setting and most of the characters belong to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks. However Silverwings and her yearlings, Kjell, Gunna, and some other people and dragons from Berk are created by me.

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Chapter 1. Waiting for Nighthawk

Come, my love. Find me!
I grew ever more impatient. He had promised to return when the moon waxed to its full in mid-summer again. Nighthawk, my lover. Oh, how I yearn for him. Not with the bodily longing of mating heat anymore, as that had subsided of course. But still a strong, intense pull remained. To my surprise I had come to love this strange male, who first said his name was Toothless, before he paused and said "No, my name is Nighthawk, that's my real name."

Would he even come? He had promised so last year, but he also said that he must come from very far away. That had been confusing, because he cannot fly and can only walk and run. So, how could he have come from very far away? I had asked him many questions. So many, that finally he told me "I came here flying. I can fly in a way. But I cannot show you now."

That remark had me baffled and I assailed him with even more questions. Finally he said that if he managed to find me again, he would reveal the secret of his flight to me. But he also said that he feared to reveal it to me. "It could tear our love apart" he had whispered with a worried expression on his face.

That made me suspicions, and I pressed him with even more questions.
"Is it anything magical?" I asked. I had heard stories about spellweaver dragons from far away, although I did not know if that meant far away in distance or far away in the past.
At that, his eyes had gone unfocused. A soft, almost sweet look erased the worry that had been on his face. "No" he said "at least not in the way you think. Yet to me it has been magical."
But I insisted "Is anything bad or wicked involved, or anything dangerous?" Because if nothing bad was involved, why could it make me stop loving him?
"No, far from that" Nighthawk had replied "but you will find it hard nonetheless, if you see how I am able to fly. Very hard."
I had been somewhat comforted, not because of his words, but because of the soft look in his eyes. Still I did not understand. He had then faced me and with eyes overflowing with love and worry had added "I just hope so very, very much that you will be able to accept it."

My anxiousness about Nighthawk's secret was pushed to the back of my mind by the hatching of my five sweetlings and their rearing. But now, while I awaited his arrival, it came to mind again, causing worry to eat into my joyous expectations.

Within days, if he could track me, I would hear his explanation. I had told him how to find me. That my nesting place was somewhere near to a range of low hills in the otherwise flat taiga, next to a big river, surging in the direction of the White Cold. I had promised to stay there, or return there at the right moon.

My children
My yearlings are playing in front of me. I had nearly burst with joy when they hatched, their little voices peeping. They had already softly chirped to me when they were still in their eggs*, and I had warbled back to them, so that we knew each other already before their hatching.

But it is a secret to my heart that I felt them even earlier. Only a few days after I left Nighthawk to return to my mother's nesting place, I suddenly had a kind of flash, or vision, while flying. Five dots of varying colour swirled around me, and it was as if I faintly heard sweet, jubilant voices. It made me nearly drop from the sky!
Since then I knew five souls had come to live within me, so it was no surprise to me that I laid five eggs. But this vision is a secret to my heart; I wouldn't know how to tell anyone, even Nighthawk. It's something intimate between me and the little ones that shared my body.

So after hatching, there they were: Night Furies in miniature. Adorable with their stubby little tails and tiny little wings not yet in proportion. Their colouring was not yet the mature black, but a mottled dark grey, which makes them nearly invisible to the eye when we are out among the trees and shrubs. Oh, I could go on about them, how after a week their eyes began to focus, or how one of them flapped the little wings for the first time. Pangs of pride and joy in my motherly heart.

They have grown rapidly since. They are able to speak for some months already. In size, their bodies minus the tail are about the lower half of my forepaw now. And they are always tumbling around, attacking each other in play and wrestling about all over the place. Three females and two males. I gave them their childhood names: Fireweed, Pinecone and Heather for the females and Boulder and Tumble for the males.

And these yearlings are his, Nighthawk's. Much heat and love went into starting their tiny flames of life. Maybe that's why they are sparkling little souls, glowing with health, all five of them. Feeding them hasn't been a problem as there is game in abundance. So I had plenty of time for musing, even after cleaning the nest of their soils and applying fresh layers of moss. But already they have learned to go out in the bushes and bury it, although they still have some accidents.

Old wounds heal
Oh, to see them play. Darting this way and that, tackling each other, then collapsing and napping in one big heap. Such a joy having them.
Finally, after all these years, the old wound healed of losing my first clutch of eggs to a bear. It had been devastating. I had been off only for a short time, to grab a bite. After finding the ruined nest and the empty eggshells, I had crumpled on the spot, unable to chase the beast and kill it.

My happiness also took away much of the pain of my second mating period. For no mate had come to my calling. I had called for nearly a full moon cycle, until in the end all I did was sob to the sky. It had taken another moon cycle after that for the half-formed eggs to dissolve in my body again. A pain, not to the body, but to my heart. I grieved for a long time. No exciting mating, not the least bit of bodily contact. And again seven years without the hatchlings that my heart ached for. I had grown bitter after that. It had been the end of 'Happywings' as my first mate had called me.

My first mate, Thundercloud. My mentor and guide. I still thank him for his loving guidance in my first mating, when he shared with me freely of his body and his wisdom. What would I have done without his guidance, when in my third mating period a male came running into my life instead of flying? I had come so close to rejecting Nighthawk. He hardly had any manners and on top of that, he was a cripple with no flight. And now he fills my heart and soul. But, with all my love for Nighthawk, I also carry the memory of Thundercloud in love and gratitude. It had been one of his lessons, that "one love does not diminish another".

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* Hatchlings that chirp from within their eggs: I saw that on a nature documentary on alligators. Whether the gator-mum grunted back, I don't recall. But I very much liked to use this detail in my story.

For the illustration of Laryssadesenhista: browse whiteaspen on Deviantart. Click open 'Favourites' and find the picture 'Toothless and Silverwings'.

There are more wonderful drawings that I collected there.
For hatchlings, see
- Night Fury Hatchlings by ~Mietschie, and
- baby toothless by ~chibignoufs.

For yearlings, see:
- Baby Night Furies by ~Moose15
- Toothless-dragon ~tetrapercu